


Prized Possession

by your_taxidermy



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Photo Shoots, Teratophilia, stefano being really weird, this sucks but i have been in a writers block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_taxidermy/pseuds/your_taxidermy
Summary: It's been a year since I've played TEW2 after loaning it to my brother. I missed it when I got it back! He was too scared to play it so rest assured I've been binge playing it and fell in love with Stef all over again. This sucks and I have not been confident in my work in a long time and I'm just starting to give no fucks. I have more in beta I'll probably post later on, until then, enjoy this mediocre fic





	Prized Possession

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a year since I've played TEW2 after loaning it to my brother. I missed it when I got it back! He was too scared to play it so rest assured I've been binge playing it and fell in love with Stef all over again. This sucks and I have not been confident in my work in a long time and I'm just starting to give no fucks. I have more in beta I'll probably post later on, until then, enjoy this mediocre fic

There is beauty in terror just as there is terror in beauty. How there is pain in art, art in pain. No matter if you carve words into flesh, your own or the succulent flesh of a victim. Stefano, the artist, knew all too well of beauty and pain in art. His flamboyance, his arrogance, his decadence, oh god, his  _ arrogance.  _ It was sickening, putrid. Rotten sugar covering a bed of corpses in a pile of flies, feasting upon on the sweet decay of flesh. Stefano would step over bodies, his Gucci boots tracking in the blood through hallways and corridors. Camera in hand, the sleek Italian leather gloves shimmering under the bright lights of his photoshoot room. He set his prized possession on the table and turned around to see his lovely Obscura, how beautiful she was. He ran his leather-clad fingers over her lense, tenderly, softly. “Ah,  _ bellissima _ , my Obscura.” His voice was like velvet, he spoke to his brutal creation like a lover, a tender muse. She seemed to lean into his glove, her long neck curling around to see him better. Stefano laughed, a cocky, arrogant laugh only Obscura would accept. “Come now, my lover, why don’t you and I spend proper time together, no? I’ve missed you, my Obscura...” 

Self-portraits. His second personal favorite past time. He was putrid in his arrogance. His desire to be number one, the best dressed, the best looking, the  _ best.  _ Was is glaring insecurity? What was he hiding under his suede suit? There must have been something he wanted to hide from the world. He heard the first click of Obscura. The beast let out gentle groans, ambiguity laced around the squeaky inhales from her. Stefano looked up at her, his icy blue eyes making her sewn heart beat faster. His eyes scanned down the sewn-on legs the untied ballet bow trailing on the ground as she tip-toed around him to get his best angles. He turned his head to get a side shot, his carved jawline became enhanced under the bright lights. His cheekbones could cut glass and by god, he knew it. Arrogance in its rawest form. He turned his head to the left, his jaw was clenched hard for the first photo, how he adored the subtle differences in his photos. In the second photo, his jaw was relaxed and delicate. He felt like a God, no, he didn’t feel like a God.  _ He was God.  _

Stefano smiled at his camera, a wicked grin that would make the devil blush.  _ Click.  _ His beloved creation snapped his photo, a shaky moan of satisfaction escaping the belly of the beast. Stefano tilted his head to the other side, his throat absorbing the light around the room. A wave of euphoria washed over him, listening to the satisfying noises from his Obscura as she took his photos. He could not describe these feelings, he just knew he didn’t want it to ever end. Obscura would have smiled if she had sewn on lips, but Stefano wasn’t that kind to let her speak. He feared she would say something to make him  _ angry,  _ and he would  _ never  _ want to hurt his  _ precious  _ Obscura. She seemingly danced around him, snapping photos from all angles and lightings. She caught him in pure bliss, washed over with the glory of murder. “What would I do without you, my love?” he asked her gently, bringing a gloved hand to her lense. “You are too good for me, you know? I can not fathom the idea of creating something I love  _ almost  _ as much as I love myself.” 

Obscura lowered her head. “Do not be humble, darling. I created you, after all, my  _ prized possession. Mine forever."  _


End file.
